


Crossing a Threshold

by SirCrona



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awkwardness, Comedy, F/F, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Comedy, Work In Progress, teenage gems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirCrona/pseuds/SirCrona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans just aren’t designed to learn from our mistakes. Evolution has favored those who, rather than being adept at seeing their errors and then correcting their behavior, are the best at avoiding the consequences of their actions. It was for this reason that when I had agreed to beta Smiley’s overpriced haunted house, my thoughts went not to how I should be more careful when I agree to something, but how I could get out of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing a Threshold

* * *

 

“Uhh, sure, I’ll take it.”

I agreed to the offer that I hadn’t heard. I was too invested in my reading of Wikipedia’s page on homosexuality in animals. The section on birds made me wonder if there was a double meaning to my peers dubbing me “Pearly Bird.”

Mr. Smiley’s voice boomed once more over the roar of the crowd. “Great! Then why don’t you come on down, young lady?” To which I replied internally, “Shit.”

Do you know the exact amount times a person needs to experience the negative outcome of a poor decision before they stop making that decision? Well, I don’t mean to brag, but I consider myself a very learned young woman, and I can tell you: None. Humans just aren’t designed to learn from our mistakes. Evolution has favored those who, rather than being adept at seeing their errors and then correcting their behavior, are the best at avoiding the consequences of their actions. It was for this reason that when I had agreed to beta Smiley’s overpriced haunted house, my thoughts went not to how I should be more careful when I agree to something, but how I could get out of this.

“This brave girl has volunteered to be the first to brave the horrors that lie within… Smiley’s house of horrors!” Oh, excellent, now he was publicly patronizing me. I suppose it was too much to ask that I leave this with my dignity.

“Tell me, thrillseeker, what might your name be?”

“Pearl” I replied.

“Pearl! Well then, Pearl, I can’t help but admire your courage, but I’m afraid if you go in alone you might not survive!”

You don’t need to  be a fire marshal to know that going into that old building could kill any amount of people, but Smiley was persistent.

“Will anyone else be brave enough to volunteer?”

I think I heard someone cough.

“I said, ‘Will anyone else be brave enough to volunteer?’”

He scanned the crowd before deciding upon his victim.

“How about… You?” He indicated to the girl in the front of the masses, whom I identified as Amethyst, one of my… “Friends,” in a sick perversion of the word.

“Huh? Why me?” she stammered.

“Because I know your parents!” he said, clearly meaning to coerce her by way of public embarrassment. “Fine, I’ll go, Jesus.” Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and we flew into the attraction before we could attract more silent ridicule. Not that I would protest - If it meant I could be done with this horrible situation my careless mouth put me in, I’d run through the house a hundred times.

The interior of the attraction was as horrifying as a newborn kitten, but unfortunately for us  it didn’t have the relative appeal. It was an old beachside residence next to a derelict lighthouse, but it didn’t have any of the interesting features of an old house; Rather than foreboding corridors and intimidating grotesques, it was mostly bookcases and hallways between rooms containing more bookcases. In fact, Smiley could have probably attracted more business by branding the place a dusty hedge maze.

The main source of horror was being alone in cramped quarters with another female. In case I wasn’t sufficiently unsubtle in the first paragraph, I am of the confirmed bachelorette persuasion. I’m the kind of person that, you might say. plays for their own team. I don’t spell sexy with XY. I am gayer than Rob Halford riding on the back of Elton John under a rainbow. And, like any young person with hormones, being in close proximity to a member of your favored sex is a position universally non-enviable.

“So what’cha reading there, P?” I tried to cover the screen and give a dismissive answer in an attempt to hide the truth.

“An article on, erm... biology.” I looked around, looking for a way to change the subject. “This house sure is a mess, huh? I’d say it could use a… A woman’s touch!”

She giggled. “You could use a woman’s touch…”

Given my sexual activity (or rather, lack thereof) since my 18th birthday, that statement was more true then she realized. It was more true than I wanted myself to realize…

Ironically, if there was one thing I didn’t want at that point it was a woman’s touch. But Amethyst seemed unable to oblige, as she kept prodding my sides to try and scare me. I could have theoretically told her to stop, but I knew it would only encourage her.

“Wasn’t me, P, I guess this place might really be haunted, huh?” I didn’t say it to her face, but all the while I couldn’t help but think that things such as this are the reason that I only tolerate her when other friends are around.

“I didn’t accuse you of anything.” I might as well have. My diminishing patience was starting to materialize on my face.

Amethyst utterly refused to ramp down her invasion of my personal space. The second I relaxed my guard, she would start up again with a prod to my side accompanied by some corny comment about the imaginary ghost.

After what seemed like hours of shuffling through this mildewy labyrinth, my energy began to wane. If only Amethyst had followed my lead. It was clear I wasn’t going to do anything about her harassment, so she stepped her assault up to a constant stream of nudging and probing. Perhaps too late, I decided to try and put a stop to this.

“That’s enough, cut it out.”

“Hey man, ‘s not me, blame the ghost!” She cackled as if what she said was anything resembling funny, and affirmed her conviction by redoubling her offense and traveling past my sides, into the small of my back.

“Oh, seriously? Now you’re just… UGH!” She had won, whatever energy I had to resist her left me after my failed attempt to repel her. She knew it, too, and she revelled in her victory by having one last ransack of her despoiled quarry with enough force to bruise. I felt like falling over right there, until one misplaced poke to my, shall we say, “back lot,” set me over the edge.

“Alright, that is IT!” I slapped her hands away and stormed several feet ahead of her.

“Don’t know when you’ve gone too far… Stupid, childish… FFF! You are just too much to tolerate... “

I thought I hurt her feelings. I hoped I hurt her feelings.

“Sorry…” she eventually mumbled. I didn’t believe her.

I sighed. For a time, I was allowed to peruse my gay animal list in peace. Amethyst kept her distance, and I was content.

Now all I had to do was get out of this creaking death trap, back to the comfort of my house and my room. As much as it disgusted me to acknowledge it, all of that unwanted physical contact was beginning to have some side effects that I would have to… “resolve” in private. It made me feel pathetic. What was that about needing a woman’s touch?

My sexual inferiority pity party was interrupted by a creeping sensation on my right shoulder blade. I had thought that a certain someone had learned their lesson, but it seemed that was wrong.

“Amethyst…” I growled.

“Fuck… what? I’m not doing any-” She cut herself off with a gasp. I could tell she wasn’t lying, the sound of her voice couldn’t have been closer than 10 feet.

I turned to see the source of the sensation. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a spider the size of a hockey puck inches from my face.

I awoke with a start… What exactly does that mean? I know I’m getting off topic from my narrative about being forced into this cramped book warehouse with a friend with no concept of personal space, but this always bugs me. What does the phrase “start” mean in that context? Is it some kind of contraction from “Startle,” is it a way of saying that waking up is the “start” of your day? I don’t understand it and I simply never will. Backpedaling from this pointless tangent, I awoke with an ambiguous concept.

I was in my bed at my house. My thoughts immediately went to the events I recalled being a dream… but that was impossible, I was still wearing my street clothes. I always wear pajamas, I can never wear the dirty clothes from the day before to bed. It’s one of my many compulsive habits; If I can’t wear pajamas, I’ll sleep naked if I have to, but I can’t sleep with the thought of rolling around in the day’s filth.

I looked to my right. Sitting beside my bed was the concerned grin of my little brother, Steven. I couldn’t help but groan.

“Steven… what have I told you about being in here without asking?” It wasn’t about anything as juvenile as sibling rivalry; I just don’t like the concept of my little brother wandering into the room where I sleep, and dress and undress, and… It just isn’t proper!

“Uhh, sorry Pearl, but when your friend brought you here, I got scared that you were hurt or something, so I wanted to be here…” Damn that adorable kid, his giant heart made me instantly feel guilt over my somewhat hostile greeting.

“Hey, it’s fine… I’m fine… Who…?”

“Garnet’s in the living room! Here, I’ll take you down…”

On our way, the dusky sky outside told me I had been out for at least two hours.

Garnet didn’t offer as warm a greeting as Steven’s.

“Your parents aren’t home.” She stated flatly, like it should be new information to me.

“They… Travel a lot. Steven and I are old enough to watch the house… it doesn’t matter, I just wanted to, er… thank you for… bringing me home.” I began to feel flustered. Some example I was setting for Steven, having to be carried home by my friends. Even if it wasn’t because of anything like alcohol, Steven didn’t know that.

“Don’t thank me, I just came here to make sure you were ok. It was Amethyst that brought you home.”

“Amethyst…? But she... “ I stopped myself from saying “is a selfish punk.” “...Doesn’t have a car.”

“Didn’t stop her, apparently.”

I blinked in awe of this revelation. Amethyst had carried me nearly a mile to my house. I started to feel sorry about my outburst in the house. It occurred to me that she might not have meant to cross the line in the way that she did. Indeed, she might have thought she was just being playful before.

I decided to call her to apologize, but froze as my hand slipped into my pocket.

“My phone… I left it at the house!”

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading my inaugural work! I'd like to give a huge thanks to my good friends Jona and Bell (Happy 16th! I got you your favorite thing, gay stuff!) for reading the rough draft of this! If you have anything like a review or advice or maybe just some criticism hit me up in the comments section. For anything else at all, questions, concerns, shoot me an ask at sircrona dot tumblr dot com, my inbox is always open and I get zero asks so I'll answer yours quick enough. If you were offended or otherwise enraged by this fanfic and you would like to fight me in real life, meet me at the Costco's parking lot at 1 AM. I'll get to work on chapter two soon enough, so until then, thanks again!


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